


the fortunate son

by atraitorslie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Knotting, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Shimadacest, Yandere, strongly implied sentai!genji/hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atraitorslie/pseuds/atraitorslie
Summary: It does not matter what they say now, Sojiro reflects, his son saved him. And so, he will save his sons.





	the fortunate son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muja/gifts).



> written after seeing a post on tumblr asking the most important question of all: what if sojiro... was a bottom.

The sakura never fades in Hanamura, neither in winter or times of death, and so they are a cruel beauty on the day of the Shimada clan alphas’ death. Frozen in perpetual bloom, the pink blossoms cascade across the serene sky driftingly light on the procession. The streets surrounding the Shimada castle are filled with silent people watching the clan return from the temple.

Clad in their white robes, the young Shimada heirs, Hanzo and Genji, lead the procession. Behind them, Sojiro rests aloft a wooden platform held by four strong clansmen. They are cousins to the alpha, failed rivals for the clan’s future, yet they hold him steadily dipping only as they pass under the castle gate. 

Soon the crowds disperse, and Sojiro will dry his sons’ tears. He will accept the mantle of clan head willingly, despite the whispers of his frailty, his omega nature, the fact that he has not bred true.

And then, Sojiro will begin to mourn.

~*~

Season come and go, yet the maids still radiate silent disapproval when Sojiro rejects soft colors in his daily dress. He prefers the colors of mourning even though his wife and alpha has long departed the clan. He is sure that even these small incidents are reported to the clan elders. They continue their harassment in the years since the clan alpha’s death, questioning Sojiro’s fitness and chastising his weak blood. They watch him like a hawk, a leader chained by his own men, men who had never approved of him or his match to the clan’s strong alpha.

Their criticisms become more blatant when Hanzo presents as beta, a low one at that. A Shimada firstborn who is not an alpha is unprecedented. The elders announce Hanzo’s dynamic a disgrace and decide Sojiro must bear the weight of the clan and breed until the alpha line is continued.

Sojiro protests their demands. He still mourns, he is not ready, his body wants no other. He takes no lovers to demonstrate his devotion and all but forgoes his heats. Still, the elders harry and press Sojiro as if he were a hare rather than the bearer of dragons.

The elders change their tune when Genji presents early, like his brother. They find the results much more pleasing. Genji is the highest caliber alpha, so high in fact the elders begin questioning his relation to Sojiro at all. New rumors begin there mingling with the old. Still the elders agree Sojiro has done right by the clan and has earned the right to wither on the vine, as they say. Though it is always a threat, the talk of Sojiro remarrying and producing more heirs dies.

It does not matter what they say now, Sojiro reflects, his son saved him. And so, he will save his sons.

From the start Hanzo has been molded to lead the clan. Clear-eyed, patient as the mighty rivers cradling the city’s edge, Hanzo is more than fit to lead no matter what the elders suggest. 

To solidify his future, Sojiro goes on his own offensive and begins to honor the leaders of Shimada’s past that did not claim alpha, of which there are many. At night he spins tales to his sons, stories about the clever omega, Shimada Toki, who ended the battle of Hanamura with a wager only she could win, and the quiet beta Shimada Daisuke, who guided the clan through famine and a government crackdown then married his strong alpha niece to consolidate his power. During the day, he pushes and wheedles and demands for his son. The elders resist, giving stipulations, tasks, hurdles in lieu of even the smallest freedoms. Hanzo leaps past them all excelling in his schooling and his training, and yes, even his maneuvering to exceed the elder’s expectations. Like the hardy winter flowers, Hanzo blooms despite adversity. 

And then, there is Genji.

Genji is spirited and disruptive in his youth. He’s smart and excels at everything he puts his mind to…when he puts his mind to it. Yet Genji’s mind is never on the clan. He’s always chasing after a challenge, besting his sword instructors, sneaking off to get the highest scores at the arcade, or trying to get Hanzo to yield to him in training. Genji breathes life into the quiet halls of Shimada castle, but to some, his capricious nature is a weakness to be exploited, broken.

The elders ask for Genji since Hanzo maintains the life of a studious young man with behavior beyond reproach. It is better for Genji to learn the old ways from their hands, for an alpha must be the clan’s strength and will no matter. Sojiro fights this too, but in the end, a grand bargain is struck. Genji attends a traditional alpha boarding school twice in his life, at ten and during his first year of high school. Those days are the longest, and Sojiro is filled with dread waiting for his son to return home. He expects his gentle sparrow to return with the petulant confidence of a “well-bred” alpha. Each time he’s surprised to find this is not the case. After reporting the school year’s successes to the elders, Genji immediately shakes away his stoic face the moment he sees Sojiro and their normal live begins anew. Genji racing through the quiet halls each day he leaves for school, the same sly grin and a kiss to Sojrio’s forehead on his way out the door. Laughter, curses, challenge, devotion, his Genji will not change, and Sorjio is glad for it.

At sixteen, Genji is something of a rebel. He becomes louder, more abrasive, and more willing to flaunt his status to the people who cross him. And he becomes more vocal in his own views of his future, his education, how he should live as an alpha.

When his new instructors try to scold him, try to impress his future and the future of the Shimada clan on him, Genji shrugs and says, “Hanzo is first born and a strong leader. I will make my own way.”

The only person he listens to is his father, although Sojiro admits he is too soft on the boy and makes no demands of him. When Sojiro tries to be stern and unyielding as he had been with Hanzo, it does not work. Genji will sit in the middle of a tirade and then, when Sojiro stops to take a breath, ask, “Chichiue, are you mad at me?” in his singsong way that still sounds so sweet despite the depth in his voice, and Sojiro folds.

He sighs, head dipping forward even as a wry smile crosses his lips. “No. No, I am not mad at you. I am worried. Genji, I cannot be the clan head forever. When the time comes, Hanzo will need his brother, not his father, who can no longer protect you,” He pauses when Genji’s face suddenly comes into the view. His sharp nose presses against his own.

“Chichiue shouldn’t worry. I’m a strong alpha. When the time comes, I will take care of you.” Genji presses a quick kiss to his forehead then bounds away.

Genji has said this same thing since he was a small boy, and not once did it make Sojiro pause.

It’s the will of the dragon. Genji will not be tamed.

~*~

Time passes.

It had been decided that a degree and contacts within the country’s financial center will only strengthen the clan, and so Hanzo receives another freedom. He escapes to business school in Tokyo, even after the debacle of the strange Sentai. Of course, Hanzo excels, does not chafe even as the elders reject the idea of law school, but his second request, a year to pursue his MBA abroad before assuming his duties with the clan.

It fills Sojiro with pride, but also consternation for his eldest fulfills their every wish, compromises, and manages to become his own man while Sojiro’s little sparrow, well, he is another thing altogether.

With his brother gone, Genji’s behavior becomes lax and restless. He disappears for hours at a time, only to appear right when Sojiro’s patience is all but gone, a guileless smile on his lips and cloying omega scents trailing behind him. Genji drops from university after one semester. Genji attends to his clan duties intermittently, and each time he appears, affects an air as if he only just remembered to arrive even though he’s been hounded for days on end. A year later, Genji drops back into school swearing to do better this time.

Overtime, Genji starts going missing for days at a time rather than hours. Sometimes he calls Sojiro to reassure him: he crams for a test with his friends. He’s visiting Hanzo at school, surfing in Ichinomiya, or simply at the arcade. More frequently, Genji’s on a date with his girlfriend, boyfriend, “no, Mina-chan. Jiro-kun was last week.” When Sojiro tries to council him on affairs of the heart, Genji laughs.

“Don’t worry, chichiue, I’ll guard my heart. Besides, no omega is as pretty as you.”

But in recent weeks, Genji does not call and he does not come home. The elders, so used to Hanzo’s regimented lifestyle, see Genji’s behavior as aberrant. His missteps are noted and delivered to Sojiro’s desk twice weekly.

After years of pressure and harassment, threats and repudiation, the elders expect Sojiro to rein in his son. How is a question he cannot answer.

He and Genji fight over such a report. It’s the night after a raid on enemy territory that Genji led. Genji was supposed to retrieve an informant, but the report came back that he dispatched the man instead along with two dock workers and the rival clan members on hand.

Sojiro still has the missive open above his desk when Genji enters his office. He looks at the clock. Genji is nearly an hour late but moves with no urgency. He watches his son sit down before him, the movement slow, lazy even, and Sojiro experiences a surge of some foreign emotion. Perhaps it is anger that makes his throat tight and his breathing grow heavy. Yes, anger at his son who swaggers into a meeting with his clan head without a word. He stands and rounds the desk and paces from one end of his desk to the other footsteps silent and slow.

“Arriving late without an explanation,” Sojiro begins, voice cold. “Your disrespect will flow down to me, now. But not even that is as disappointing as this report I received tonight.”

Genji’s gaze glitters over him before becoming dull with disinterest.

“It concerns the raid you led tonight. Is this the work we are to expect from you? Undisciplined and sloppy down to the rough sword strokes? You severed tongues? It is unacceptable. Your behavior has been unacceptable.” Sojiro turns to spear Genji with a look, but his son now looks elsewhere.

“Did you forget the bargain we struck? You would apply yourself without restraint to your duties to the clan while Hanzo continues his studies. Are you so selfish that you would see your brother dragged back before he can fulfill his potential? Is this it? Do you miss your brother so you would sabotage him just as we were sabotaged all last year?” Still Genji does not move, does not give voice to excuse or defend himself. Sojrio tries a new tract to reach him.

“The Shimada are only starting to recover now that the interfering Sentai has moved on to Tokyo. This should have been an easy assault. A silent strike to warn our rivals that the Shimada clan is still controls this city. And you have ruined that. Is that it, Genji? Do you seek to ruin this family? Do you seek to ruin me? If you cannot be trusted to support where your brother cannot, to lead when your brother’s beta will cannot take us, the elders will discard you both.” Sojiro’s hand falls to his belly. “They will demand a new heir from me.”

Genji glances up at him, eyes sharpened by something Sojiro cannot fathom. He looks almost angry, dangerous, his mind supplies. Sojiro only pushes closer.

“Will you say nothing for yourself? Will you stand silent in front of the elders when they demand an apology,” he nearly gasps when Genji rolls his eyes sulky as he was at aged ten.

“Fuck the elders,” Genji grumbles voice dripping with disdain. “I won’t apologize.”

Those are the first words his son speaks since entering the room. Unrepentant. Uncaring. Undisciplined. Dangerous. Sojiro frowns heavily.

“Genji. You will apologize for this death. You will. You must. You must!” he repeats when Genji shakes head over and over again, and Sojiro raises his hand, shaking because he is about to strike his son. 

“No,” Genji growls, snatching Sojiro’s wrist from the air and climbs to his feet forcing Sojiro to retreat with quick steps, but he cannot go far. The desk blocks his path, and Genji’s hand clutches too tightly for escape. Sojiro falls against the wood with Genji looming above him.

All at once, Sojiro is aware of the differences between them. Genji stands taller and broader, thick with muscles and youth. The handsome planes of his face are darkened with rage. His full twit into a snarl revealing his alpha canines.

“Genji! You must listen to me.” Sojiro gasps.

“No. I won’t cow to those old fools for something like this. And I won’t let you chastise me when you only know half-truth. The informant was no friend to us. He was without honor and he did not respect the Shimada.”

“We offered him protection.”

“He did not deserve it,” Genji roars silencing Sojiro’s protest. “He said that our clan was weak. As weak as the ‘frigid omega bitch’ sitting on the diseased throne. How dare say something like that about someone so precious to me? Precious to this clan? The Shimada are strong because of you, chichiue. I will not apologize for silencing him.” Genji’s fingers trail down Sojiro’s cheek. The touch is electric. “I will not apologize for protecting you like you deserve, like no one else has.”

Shocked, Sojiro can only stare at the young man pressed against him. Stares up and up. His little bright bird has grown so, hard and strong, stubborn and reckless, but still so gentle, even in his anger. A dragon. An alpha. He wonders how he had missed these changes.

“Genji, Genji, please,” he whispers but the words evaporate at the growl rumbling in Genji’s chest. The sound is a soft, tangible thing that shakes through Sojiro’s skin. His heart begins to race. His body begins to tremble. His limbs feel weak. A quiet whine escapes him.

The fierce expression on Genji’s face eases. “Chichiue?”

“I feel. Genji I feel strange. Help me.” He tries to move but his knees buckle. The only thing keeping Sojiro upright is Genji’s unyielding body, his alpha will holding him in place. He can’t seem to catch his breath. His head swims inside a sudden fog.

A hand on his face, a sharp stinging at his cheek. Sojiro reels as he’s slapped again, shouts when he’s shushed, held tight, a thumb at his lips, and oh, such a warm, enticing scent. His tongue traces salted skin and he moans, tumbling into darkness with the vague impress of his name whispered cross his lips.

~*~

Sojiro wakes with a start. Night spreads across his room in shades of ink and shadows. His head feels heavy, and his body aches in a rocking rhythm, gentle waves slapping a ship.

Despite his hazy thoughts, Sojiro recognizes his bedroom. His senses cling to the impression of soft cotton sheets, the firm mattress, the quiet fall of water from the gardens. A hot, dark scent saturates the air, one so quietly woven into the night he cannot place it. He lifts his nose to follow the faint strains to the faintly heated impression against his pillow. It smells so, so good. Sojiro draws in a deep breath and another as he rolls until the scent curls over his cheeks and slides between his teeth. And when he licks his swollen lips, he can taste that it. It is richer than wine, smoother than sake and he moans softly wanting more.

He loosens his robe shivering as the cool night air pebbles his skin. His thighs press together and a warm pulse echoes deep within his cunt. He slides his hand between his thighs, fingers easy against his folds which are dripping wet. He hasn’t been this wet in years. _Years_. Is it the warmth in his bed, the subtle scent that has caused this yearning inside him? He feels flush as if drunk, hungry as if starved, and he wants.

There is so much that he wants.

Rolling onto his belly, Sojiro spreads his thighs wide. It’s been so long, too long, but he finds that his hips recall the motion, and his mouth opens in soft pants when questing fingers circle his hole before dipping inside.

His moans feel the air, steady, wanton begging for more.

One finger isn’t enough. Sojiro squirms until he’s on his back again. The air feels cooler now, lapping at his tight nipples and heated skin. He bends his legs at the knee and tuck his heels close to form a lazy diamond. He can reach himself now and shoves to two fingers beside the intrusion, which slips away, leaving Sojiro to dip deeper, twisting and driving for his own pleasure. It’s not the thickness he craves. Sojiro mourns his delicate body and his fingers which are neither long nor wide. They are neither enough nor what he wants. Not when he desires is a fat cock filling him, stealing away his resolutions and his regrets. He’s desperate for a knot. Sojiro bits his lip whining softly working his fingers and stroking his cock until twin pleasure shakes a shout from his lips. a fat alpha cock with this scent radiating from him, pumping into him, tying him.

“Alpha, alpha,” he begs. With his mouth and his body, he begs until the levee built around his desires breaks and pleasure arrives in a drowning rush. He comes twice, cock and cunt, at once then falls into darkness.

~*~

The morning sun steals through Sojiro’s window and into his bed. He twists his head slowly taking in the empty surroundings and the pleasant lethargy in his limbs. His thighs quake when he stretches them out beneath the sheets. He flushes embarrassed that he passed out after his nightly pleasure in the same position as that he came. At least he had the presence of mind to clean his belly and pull a cover over himself, although he doesn’t remember doing so.

He slides out of the bed and gasps as his cunt throbs, aching to be filled again. It has been a long time since he’s indulged, and his body has grown greedy. Sojiro ignores the pangs, after all, he has many years of practice.

To distract his mind and overwhelm his body, Sojiro takes a long shower forgoing the normal tepid waters for scrubbing beneath a hot spray of water that warms all the way through to his bones. His thighs are especially tacky with slick and spend, and he flushes at the wantonness displayed while alone in his bed. He oils his skin afterwards and brushes his thick hair out until it shines.

His morning servants await his exit with his robes and slippers. Sojiro looks at the dull colors and frowns. “I remember a robe with the sun on its back and the silhouettes of birds in flight. Bring that to me.”

The servants remain blank faced as they scurry to his closet to return with the garment. It’s as beautiful as he remembers, dove gray with deep burgundy at the edges and sparrows the color of love’s first blush. He slides it over his arms and stares at the stranger in the mirror in front of him, a pretty omega with pink cheeks and glowing eyes. The vision is pleasant, but foolish, another thing to ignore.

Still, Sojiro finds himself making other small changes this morning.

“I will take breakfast on the patio by the southern gardens,” he announces before leaving his rooms. The sakura trees grow thickest there surrounding the perfectly tended garden flowers and green grass where the boys used to play.

He’s surprised when the gate opens in the middle of his meal. Soft steps glide up the stairs and then a warm presence joins his at the table. Genji hasn’t joined him for a meal in months. He sets down his cup ready to greet him, but the words freeze and his eyes widen at the sight of his son.

“You’re dressed differently,” he blurts, inelegant in his surprise. It is certainly something of note. Rather than the trendy clinging tees and tight pants, Genji wears traditional robes opened at the collar to reveal his sharp collarbones and the thick muscles shaping his chest. White blossoms are woven around the neck and him, the sign of the Shimada heir. Genji looks like so handsome and strong, a young lord, and alpha. Sojiro’s eyes slide away from the sight to his own hands wrapped tightly around his tea.

Genji shrugs. “So is chichiue. A little color is a good thing,” he announces, a wide grin in his voice. “You look cute.”

The compliment goes straight to Sojiro’s head. His cheeks grow hot from such mild praise, hotter when Genji laughs. Strong fingers curl around his chin tilting his face up.

“Ne, chichiue, you’re blushing? That’s cute too.” Genji tilts Sojiro’s face up to inspect him closer. Leans into Sojiro’s face so close his breath washes over Sojiro’s skin. “Even here.” Genji’s lips brush across the bridge of his nose, the touch so gentle Sojiro’s heart wrenches in his chest. “I like when you’re cute for me.” Genji’s mouth drags upward to press a kiss to his forehead then slide down to his cheek, “My cute omega. I like that you show this side to me on the day I make you mine,” his lips.

The kiss deepens with little effort. Genji tilts his head pulling Sojiro’s lax mouth apart with slanted lips. His tongue strikes true searing inside hotly, and Sojrio moans and trembles. He hasn’t been kissed in so long, so, so long, and even then, it hadn’t been like this. Genji winds fingers into his hair and yanks holding him down when he would fly away. They break for air, but only for Genij. Sojiro pants breathlessly dizzy and weak with need. So weak. He should not be so weak.

“Genji. You mustn’t. I am not.” He chokes as calloused hands slide up his inner thighs.

“I’m afraid I have to, chichiue,” Genji says. “I played too long hoping I could force the clan on the right path, but it didn’t work. The other syndicates thought we were weak when Sentai targeted us. They think we’re weak with an unclaimed omega at the head. They think I’m a weak alpha. And last night, you thought you could punish me like a child. Like I am a weak alpha.”

“No, you. You’re the strongest of us all,” Sojiro protests even as he moans into Genji’s second hungry kiss, this one eager. He can taste his son’s smile.

“I am. Now I have to prove it to you,” Genji says.

Deft fingers unravel his robe exposing Sojiro’s body to the morning light. Genji’s hungry grin reveals the sharp edge of his canines. His fingers glide over slickened folds and Sojiro begins to tremble.

“Wait. You do not need. We can still.” Sojiro stutters grasping Genji’s wrist. “Hanzo. Hanzo.”

“Didn’t I say I would find my own way? Hanzo is fit to lead. I don’t want the clan to follow me. The clan is too entrenched in their ways. They don’t want to do what’s right, but Hanzo can show them a better way. He will. I’ve made sure of it. Until that time…” His face becomes stern. “Claiming you is the path that lets me protect you both, my precious chichue and my stubborn anija.”

“What do you? Genji, wait.” The protests fail to overcome Sojiro’s desperate pants. Genji’s fingers have stolen past exploration and start fucking into his body. So good, so good, it feels so good.

“No,” he moans, curling to his side even as his small cock dribbles clear liquid over his belly. He pushes a hand between his thighs to hid his arousal. When Genji growls, Sojiro can feel it in thrum low in his own chest. 

“You weren’t so shy with me last night,” he hums.

Sojiro stares up at him lost. “Last night?” 

Genji’s smile is sly, less dragon than fox circling his quivering prey. “Should I help you remember? Should I explain to you how I put you to bed and left for the door to guard you. I thought chichiue went into heat. You smelled. So. Ripe.” He raises his hand and licks the creamy glaze from his fingers. “Ne, chichiue, it tastes sweet in the light too.”

Seconds later Genji has him on his belly legs parted and fingers prodding between his folds. Genji’s fingers don’t hesitate, crawls inside him and strokes until Sojiro claws at the tatami mats, tears slipping down his cheeks. Genji continues to undress him and shoves the seating pillow beneath his knees. Genji’s robes drop to the ground beside them, and his warm chest molds to Sojiro’s back. He embraces Sojiro, tilting his head back to rest on a broad shoulder, and that’s when Sojiro catches the scent, rich, dark, a caress in the night.

“That was you,” he moans. “You were on my pillows.”

“Just for a moment. Just to watch you sleep,” Genji confesses. “But then you called for me. It was shameful how you passed out with your pussy wet and open for anyone to claim. I had to clean you and put you away when all I wanted to do was this for hours.” The head of his cock slides against his cunt grinding back and forth for slickness. Sojrio moves with him and his moans become high and plaintive when Genji circles his hole but does not press.

“The servants, the elders. Genji, I worked so hard to protect you,” Sojiro protests although his body has long since surrendered.

Genji laughs. “They brought the idea to me a long time ago. An alpha can claim the omega and the clan must follow their will. I didn’t like it because it was always, ‘put the omega in his place.’ But I last night I saw that you needed me.” He kisses Sojrio’s ear. “You’ve needed for so long, chichiue. It’s time for me to take care of you. Will you let me inside?”

Sorjio shakes from the softness in his tone, from the pleasure long denied. “Yes,” he whispers, breathless and ashamed. “Claim me.”

“It was so hard not to take you in the night. Your scent was everywhere in that room, and when I hurried in after your cries. You were spread out like a feast, chichue, a messy, slutty fest. Your belly wet, your thighs drenched. Cleaning you really tested me.” Genji sighs. “I should thank you for the meal, huh?”

Sojiro bows his head, scandalized, but Genji only laughs and kisses his neck.

The teasing stops replaced by firm pressure against his hole, the slow feel of being breached, the aching fullness just at the rim, and Genji’s irreverent groan telling Sojiro his pussy feels so, so good. Just for him, and Sojiro nods and moans. He was made for his alpha. He fucks with a slow rock of hips, a steady beat that coaxes Sojiro to roll and sway and take what Genji gives him. For a moment, Sojiro is grateful to all the omega playthings who perfected this gentle fucking and then he’s immediately jealous. This should be his alone. Genji’s teeth slide up his neck to nibble at the sensitive skin sucking until Sojiro all but howls. And then Genji stops.

The sudden halt of their bodies leaves Sojiro reeling. He whines piteously and begs his hips back.

“Sorry, sorry. I went to quickly and I was about to embarrass myself,” Genji confesses. His hands wander down Sojiro’s shoulders to his nipples which he twists and teases before sliding down to Sojiro’s cock. He teases Sojiro here too, pinching the tip and then rubbing two fingers soothingly all while burning hot as tempered still inside him. Finally, he spreads his hands over Sojiro’s groin and holds him steady. Genji rears back so that the tip of his cock holds Sojiro open, long seconds where the emptiness threatens to consume him, and then Genji thrusts so hard Sojiro’s teeth rattle.

“Yes,” he moans, filled again. But Genji takes it away, slides back, kisses his hole with the head of his cock until Sojiro begins to squirm then thrusts inside again. Hard. Hard. Harder. “I feel it,” Sojiro gasps. “I feel you.”

All around him, Genji.

Genji growls then and begins to fuck him again in earnest. It is wild, no restraint, no pause. It is whispered praise and thudding hearts. It’s Sojiro submitting in a way that he has been unable to in nearly fifteen years. It is everything he’s needed. He’s overcome, jaw slack, eyes rolling back in his head, pleasure driven out of his body in thick hot pulses. His come splashes across the floor and Genji’s warm hand enfolds him completely milking the salty drops free.

“That’s it, that’s it. I can knot you now.” Genji laughs at the sound Sojiro makes. “I know, I know, it’s been too long. Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait anymore. I’m going to take care of you.”

True to his word, Sojiro did not wait much longer. A hand to his throat, the wicked slap of their skin, and Genji’s soft lips at his cheek and then he feels it, the tightened knot nudging against his hole. He wants it so badly, his alpha inside him, tied together with the one who is dearest to him. Sojiro spreads his knees wider and cants his hips back. Instinct, remembrance, need, it all drives him towards the pleasure-pain, the overwhelming fullness. The knot catches and Sojiro shakes apart inside, completely, completed. Genji comes roaring, and Sojiro, loose limbed and grateful, takes it all.

The gardens feel abnormally quiet, a hush descending as if the very grounds are in awe of Genji’s claiming shout. Sojiro curls into the warm arms around him and preens under the soft kisses placed along his shoulders and throat. They will be tied for some time, Genji assures him. They arrange themselves along the pillows with their robes spread over Sojiro to ward off the cold. 

Genji hands slide from Sojiro’s neck down to his belly where he continues to spill inside. “I have Hanzo, and now I have you. The Shimada clan will blossom like the trees in Hanamura. Forever.”


End file.
